Rising Darkness
by raitei007
Summary: In the Ministry, Dumbledore had arrived on time to save Harry from Voldemort. What if he had been a few seconds too late? Includes stronger-than-canon magical world and very powerful Voldemort. A few influences from GetBackers. Rated M for dark and somewhat violent themes to be on the safer side.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or GetBackers.**

**Chapter 1**

_Damn it_, thought Harry Potter. He had been tricked into entering the Department of Mysteries by Voldemort who had shown him a vision of his godfather, Sirius Black, being tortured. So Harry and five of his friends, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood, had broken into the Department of Mysteries to rescue Sirius.

Things had then gone from bad to worse. Sirius had never been there. They found themselves surrounded by Death Eaters. After a long fight, which left all of his friends incapacitated, the Order of the Phoenix led by Sirius Black himself had arrived. Dumbledore soon joined the fight and most of the Death-Eaters had been captured.

Unfortunately, Sirius had been knocked into the Veil of Death by his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. Giving in to his rage, Harry had chased Bellatrix to the atrium. After a very short duel, in which Harry had realized the incredible difference in power and skill between himself and the evil witch, he found himself face to face with Voldemort himself.

Voldemort looked down at Harry with fury in his red eyes. He walked towards the boy with his wand pointed at him.

"I will deal with you later, Bellatrix", he said, ignoring the whimpering witch, who looked terrified at his presence.

"You have irked me too often, for too long, Harry Potter. Avada Kedavra!"

Harry could do nothing but gape at the green light headed towards him. It hit him and everything turned dark. He never heard the anguished "NO" of Albus Dumbledore as he arrived a moment too late.

Harry felt as though he was floating. His body felt light and there seemed to be no pain. He slowly opened his eyes and then wished he hadn't. He had been right – he _was_ floating.

"Is this hell?" he thought. Above him was what he supposed could be called a sky. Except, this sky seemed to be made from the fiercest flames. It glowed a scorching orange and seemed to be constantly moving. Below him...well, he was not sure what exactly it was. It seemd to be made of several colours, like little streams. There were more dark colours than light and they gave a highly unpleasant feeling.

"Where am I? I died, didn't I?"

"No, not yet."

Harry turned around shocked. He didn't understand how he could not have felt this being's presence. It was covered in a dark cloak, its face hidden behind a hood. Its voice could not be identified as male or female. It was tall, around 7 feet. And its power!

Never had Harry ever felt such power. Voldemort and Dumbledore had nothing on it. The power was so overwhelming that it made Harry want to bow before it. And the strange part was Harry didn't think it was even trying to display its power. He didn't think that anything or anyone in this world could compare to it.

"W...Who...What are you?" he asked.

"I am the entity called Death", it replied, its voice neither warm nor cold, devoid of emotion and yet not empty.

"Death? S..So I have died then?" asked Harry.

"No. Not yet", Death replied.

"I don't understand", said Harry, feeling confused.

"Yours is an interesting situation, Harry Potter. Turn to your left", it said.

Harry turned and recoiled in shock. Suspended in the air, next to him was something quite similar to what Voldemort had looked like before he was reborn: like a child with a snake-like face and reddish-burnt skin. He wanted to ask what it was but fear stopped his voice.

"That, Harry Potter, is a broken fragment of Tom Riddle's soul. The fool, in his attempt to escape me, took many dangerous steps. What you see before you is the result of that foolishness", Death explained. "On the night that you received your scar, this soul fragment entered it. That is why you have been connected to Tom Riddle. When you were hit by that curse tonight, it ejected both, your soul and the soul fragment from your body. The curse is not allowed to do so. It may take only one soul at a time."

Death pointed below him. "What you see there Harry Potter is the power emitted by every living soul in the world and also all the ghosts and spirits that exist there; their emotions, hopes and shattered dreams. The light colours show positive emotions and powers, the dark colours show negative emotions and powers."

A part of Harry realized that this meant there was more darkness and negativity in the world. The rest of him was still listening to Death speak.

"Beyond the fiery clouds above you, lies Limbo", Death continued. "It is a place from where you may enter the afterlife, an area of judgement. Had your death involved self-sacrifice, you would have directly entered Limbo."

Death paused for a moment and then spoke, its voice commanding, "Listen to my words carefully, Harry Potter. From here on, you may either go beyond or return to the mortal world or wander as a ghost. You are currently protected by a barrier that I have created. As soon as I release it, you will be bombarded by the emotions of every living creature in existence. This soul fragment will also awaken. Remember, that it cannot understand anything but survival."

A transparent glassy platform appeared below Harry and he found himself standing on it, near the middle, facing Voldemort's soul fragment. "Magic is useless. Your will alone will matter. Try and push each other off the platform. The one who falls will move to the world beyond. The one who remains standing will be given three options that I have already mentioned. But bear in mind, that because it is only a soul fragment, the only thing it can do is to possess your body. Now, begin!"

Harry had no time to respond. He felt the barrier disappear and almost instantly fell to his knees. It was too much. It was pain beyond pain. He could feel the thoughts and emotions of every living creature in his head. Joy, pain, anger, cruelty, kindness and every other emotion entered him.

_Stop it! Please!_

Somebody seemd to be pleading but he did not know who. Was somebody pleading for him? But who was he? What was he? He could no longer remember himself, retain his identity as he felt himself dissolve.

_No._

He had to snap out of it. He did not know why but it seemed important.

He tried to focus, which was made difficult by the screaming voices, but he finally beginning to get a hold of himself.

_Yes, I am Harry Potter. That's my name._

He started trying to remember his past and bit by bit, everything came back to him. He realized that he was being affected by lesser thoughts now. He looked up and saw the soul fragment of Voldemort, now no longer frozen, glaring and screeching at him.

_Yes, Voldemort, his enemy. Murderer._

The emotions and thoughts bombarding him slowed down and he realized that he was able to identify some of these thoughts. He felt Ron and Hermione's anguish at his death, Dumbledore's grief and then suddenly felt the grief of Cedric Diggory's parents, their broken dreams.

_Voldemort's victims_, he realized, as he felt the grief of other survivors of Voldemort's cruelty. It was the last push he needed. His mind snapped back into place silencing the foreign thoughts and feelings.

And just in time, he thought. He was standing on the edge of the platform.

_Oh no, you don't._ He started pushing back just as he had an year ago in the graveyard. But this time the situation was different. In this world, where neither magical power nor physical power would work, only the soul mattered. And before his pure and whole soul, Voldemort's corrupted and broken soul stood no chance. As Harry put all his focus into taking a step forward, Voldemort's soul fragment was being pushed back. And as Harry reached the middle again, the soul fragment was pushed out of the platform. The soul fragment instantly transformed into a sickly yellow ball of light and floated into death's outstretched hand where it disappeared.

"Interesting", said Death. Harry turned towards it but found that Death was not looking at him. Instead, it was looking at the sky.

Harry looked up and saw what had caught the powerful being's interest. The sky, which had previously been only fiery was now accompanied by lightning flashes.

"Well, Harry Potter", said Death, turning towards him. "You may now make your choice. You may move on, or return or become a ghost."

"What happens if I move on?" asked Harry.

"I do not know", it replied.

"_You _do not know?" asked Harry, incredulously.

"What happens after the soul enters Limbo is outside my domain. Therefore I do not know, nor do I need to know", explained Death.

"But are you not curious?"

"Harry Potter, I am not human, nor one of the countless beings of the mortal world. Curiosity is not in my nature. I do not hate anyone, nor do I love anyone. I am impartial. My duty is to ensure that the event of death happens without fail. Everything has an end, Harry Potter. And one day, when all life ends, I will end as well."

Harry did not know what to say to that. In the few moments that he had been here, he had learnt so much. He had become wiser, though he did not realize this.

"I don't want to be a ghost. I think I want to live again. I want to go back", said Harry, making his choice.

"So be it, Harry Potter", said Death. "When you return, you will be forced to fight Tom Riddle again. Till now, he was a dark lord by title alone. But in the thirteen years of his exile, he absorbed the essence of darkness into him. In the year since his resurrection, Tom Riddle has been successfully able to become one with the darkness. He _is_ the Dark Lord now."

"There are other soul fragments that he has hidden in the mortal world. As long as even one exists, he cannot be killed", said Death. "But also remember this. That as each fragment is destroyed, his control over the darkness will only increase. Now, leave Harry Potter! We will meet again."

Harry felt the world around him begin to dissolve. His sight started fading as darkness began spreading. But he could still hear Death speak clearly.

"Now that Tom Riddle's soul fragment has been removed from you, your true powers will begin to emerge."

"Wait? What powers?" asked Harry, startled.

"Your will know soon", was the last thing Harry heard before everything turned black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Ron watched Hermione as she slept on her bed. One of the potions Madam Pomfrey had fed her had been an extended dreamless sleep potion. This, she had said, would make sure that Hermione would recover faster without any chance of her wound re-opening.

_Lucky her_.

Ron wished they would knock him out as well. It would be better than this.

When they had first gotten the news a few hours ago, Ron had scoffed. As if Harry could be dead.

But Dumbledore and Lupin had both confirmed it. Then Hermione had gone into shock and her wound, which had barely been healed had opened again. So Madam Pomfrey had to keep her sedated. Till there is no chance of the wound re-opening, she had said, which according to her, would take another twelve hours.

She would probably wake up in the morning. He hoped she would be fine. She was the only friend he had now.

It was nearly midnight. Ron looked around the darkened hospital wing. A few beds away from him lay Harry's body, shielded by a curtain. There was no one around that bed.

_Of course not_, he thought. _Sirius is dead._

He nearly laughed at the irony. They had gone to the Ministry to save Sirius. But because they had gone, they had not only lost Sirius, they had also lost Harry.

And what had he done? Nothing. _Useless_, he thought. He had been the first one to be taken out and then he had been attacked by brains. Five years, he had spent being jealous of Harry, his fame, his wealth. He had also been afraid that his parents, his mother especially, preferred Harry to him. But all his illusions had been shattered that afternoon.

His parents, Bill and the twins had come that afternoon. They had first come to him and Ginny, making sure they were alright. Then, they had lingered by Harry's bed for a few moments before they had left. His mother had broken down on seeing Harry's body, but she had allowed his father to lead her away. That was what had opened his eyes.

If it were him or any of his siblings lying in Harry's place, he knew that nothing could have moved their mother from their bedside. But as much as she loved Harry, he was not her son. He remembered how Cedric's parents had stayed at his bedside watching his body. But Harry had no one. And his lonely corpse was proof of that. Lupin had apparently come early in the morning before Ron had woken up. He had not returned since then. And none of the students had come. Ron knew that an announcement had been made that day. He also knew that the Ministry had twisted the truth completely. And his relatives…

_All the times I could have died and I didn't manage? They will be furious_

Harry's voice echoed in his head. He should have known that. Had he not seen the barred windows, the locked door? Had Harry not told him about the cupboard under the stairs? But he had been too busy feeling sorry for himself to care. Not a single galleon from Harry's vault had come to his rescue when he faced Voldemort. And his fame? Ron realized that Harry had barely gotten any benefit from being the Boy-Who-Lived. He had only been persecuted... by the Ministry, by the Daily Prophet, by the warding community and by Hogwarts.

If only he had had these realizations before...it was too late now. Harry was dead. He, Ron, would never be able to forgive himself for being a crappy friend.

Suddenly, there was a brilliant flash of lightning which illuminated the darkened room temporarily followed by a loud roar of thunder. Ron glanced out of the window for a moment and then did a double take.

_Where are the clouds?_

The sky was clear. He could see the stars in the sky. But lightning currents kept appearing in the sky.

Ron was astonished and terrified at the same time. What was going on? Then as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. The night became completely silent.

Before Ron could wonder, a small light caught his eye. He turned around and gasped. There was a glow, steadily becoming brighter, coming from behind the curtains shielding Harry's bed from view. He stared at it for a moment before coming to his senses and shouting, "MADAM POMFREY! MADAM POMFREY! COME HERE!HURRY!"

There was a sound of something being knocked over from the adjacent room, before the door opened and Madam Pomfrey came out, her wand in hand.

"What is...". The question died on her lips as she stared at the now bright glow.

"What on earth...". She never had time to complete her question as in that moment the curtains were blasted away.

Both Ron and Madam Pomfrey stared wide-eyed as Harry's body floated in the air for a moment before the light disappeared and Harry's body fell back on the mattress.

They were still staring, completely befuddled when with with a shuddering gasp, Harry opened his eyes.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sighed as he emerged from his penseive. No matter how many times he saw the memory, he knew it would change nothing. He had failed. Harry was dead.

He sat on his chair, his head in his hands. He had made many mistakes in his life. But this... If only he had told Harry about the prophecy, this would not have happened. But he had been determined to let Harry have a childhood, conveniently ignoring the fact that Harry's childhood had been lost the moment he had left him with the Dursleys.

And they had gained absolutely nothing tonight. It was one blow after the other. First, they had lost both Harry and Sirius. And his duel with Voldemort had been most surprising. By the time he had arrived, Voldemort had already killed Harry. In his grief and anger, he had cast an ancient petrification spell on Voldemort, one that an ordinary shield could not have blocked. Voldemort had reacted with the Shield of Ether.

But it was not the fact that Voldemort had cast the spell that stunned Dumbledore, after all, he was strong. No, it was the fact that he had done so wandlessly and not looked even slightly exhausted after casting the spell that shocked him. The Shield of Ether required power and control. So much power was not easy to control without a wand.

But Voldemort had done so. He had done it instantaneously and effortlessly. And then he had given Dumbledore an amused smirk as he grabbed Bellatrix and apparated away.

Something had changed about him. Physically too. He no longer looked like how Harry had described him. He more or less resembled the Tom Riddle who had come to him for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher many years ago.

And things had only become worse. He had been able to get the children and Lupin away from the Ministry before Fudge had arrived. He had then explained most of the situation to Fudge. But Fudge had refused to believe him. Oh he certainly had believed that Harry Potter was dead and had been a little shocked at the news. But Dumbledore had grossly underestimated the influence that Lucius Malfoy had on Fudge. Barely twelve hours after the Department of Mysteries fiasco, Lucius Malfoy and the Death-Eaters who had originally not been in Azkaban walked free claiming to be under the imperious curse...again.

And, he Dumbledore, was still on the run for apparently trying to destabilize the Ministry. He almost chuckled as he sat in his office. The magic of Hogwarts was older than that of the Ministry. He was the rightful headmaster and hence his office would open only for him. But he could not linger here forever. He would have to leave again. Things would only get worse from there.

A sudden flash of lightning caught his attention. He frowned. He had not realized it was cloudy. Glancing out of the window, he gave a gasp and walked towards it. Never in a hundred and fifty years had he seen something like this. Lightning currents were very clearly racing across a clear sky. Then as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

_What was that?,_ he wondered.

He turned around quickly on hearing a noise in his office, a noise he should no longer have been able to hear. A silver instrument in his office, that had once monitored Harry's condition, had re-activated itself.

_How?_

He did not understand. The instrument had died along with Harry.

The noise kept growing and then the instrument exploded. Dumbledore threw up a wandless shield to protect himself from the fragments.

_Impossible. It cannot be._

There was only one way he could be certain. He left his office and ran towards the Hospital Wing. As he entered it, he saw Madam Pomfrey and Ronald Weasley staring wide-eyed at something. Or rather someone. He could not help but stare himself. It was not the end after all. There was still hope.

Harry Potter lived again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

A stunned silence filled the hospital wing as everyone tried to grasp Harry's tale. Dumbledore had warded the hospital wing after promising Madam Pomfrey to un-ward it in case of medical emergencies. Currently, he, Ron and Hermione were sitting wide-eyed as Harry finished his story.

"P...Professor", stammered Hermione. "Do you think Harry simply imagined it?"

Harry opened his mouth, annoyed, but Dumbledore spoke first, "I am afraid not, Miss Granger. Unless Harry possesses extremely advanced and obscure knowledge of magic that I did not know he possessed, he is very much telling the truth."

"B..But".

"Harry",Dumbledore said turning towards him, "do the terms Rule of One, Horcrux or Witch Queen mean anything to you?"

Harry shook his head, his face blank.

"How about you, Mr. Weasley? Miss Granger?"

Ron gave the same response as Harry but Hermione said, "I've heard of the Witch Queen, but I do not recognize the other two."

Dumbledore sighed. "You have made the right decision by limiting this discussion amongst us Harry. Such knowledge can be dangerous in the wrong hands. What you have described, Harry, matches some highly advanced and obscure rules of magic known only to those who have studied magic deeply."

"Well, to begin, the Rule of One is an obscure rule with regards to the Killing Curse. The curse can only take one life at a time. No matter the circumstance, this rule will never change. And apparently, it is this rule which has saved your life. Since your body housed two souls, the curse could not kill you properly. But, I had never imagined such a scenario."

He gave them a moment to digest this information. Harry, especially, had a look of understanding on his face. It must have matched whatever he had seen and heard. He then continued, "What I tell you now must never be spoken of again. A horcrux is one of the foulest magic in the world. It is the art of splitting one's soul."

"Splitting one's soul?" asked Hermione, looking green. Next to her, Harry and Ron didn't look much better either.

"Indeed", said Dumbledore. "There are many methods that have been used by wizards in the past to achieve immortality. However, making a horcrux is the darkest and deadliest method of all. When one commits murder driven by greed, ambition, cruelty or any other intensely negative desire, the soul is severely damaged. Within three hours of the act, a portion of the soul is torn out and placed in another object. This object becomes a horcrux."

"The horcrux acts as an anchor for the person's soul. As long as a horcrux exists, that person cannot die. That is why Voldemort survived the rebounded Killing Curse. For years, I have suspected that Voldemort may have created a horcrux. Then, three years ago, you gave me the proof Harry, an object that could think and act by itself and influence the thoughts of those around it."

"The diary!" exclaimed Harry, looking shocked. "You mean that was..."

"So Ginny was possessed by You-Know-Who's..." said Ron, who had turned completely white.

"I am afraid so", said Dumbledore, closing his eyes for a moment. For all his faults, Dumbledore truly did value his students above everything else. When he had received news that Ginny Weasley had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets, his rage had nearly reduced his house into rubble.

"But that's good, isn't it Professor?" asked Hermione. "This means that he is mortal again, right?"

"I am afraid not, Miss Granger", said Dumbledore, gravely. "You see, horcruxes are always defensive in nature. But, this one had been offensive, meant to be used as a weapon. It could only mean one thing. He has made more than one horcrux."

"More than one?" said Hermione, horrified.

"The night he attacked Harry, the curse rebounded onto him due to Lily's sacrifice. However, when what was left of Voldemort's soul escaped from the house, a portion of his soul broke apart and attached itself to the highest source of magic it could find nearby: Harry's scar."

He looked at Harry for a moment. Even though, Ron and Hermione continued to look horrified, Harry looked calm, as though he had understood something.

"But it's gone now", he said.

"Yes", Dumbledore replied. "but the fact that it split by itself shows how unstable his soul has become. It is proof that he truly has split his soul multiple times."

Dumbledore became quiet after that, seemingly lost in thought. The three exchanged looks before Ron asked, "You mentioned something about some witch queen or something. Who is that?"

It was Hermione who answered, "Her real name was Agnes Deners. She lived somewhere in central Europe, sometime around the sixteenth century, I think. She was the last of the Seven Immortals."

"Seven Immortals?" asked Harry and Ron, together.

"The Seven Immortals is a collective title given to the seven most powerful witches and wizards to have ever existed", said Dumbledore. "They were not actually immortal. They were just frighteningly powerful. To give you an example, it would have probably taken the combined power of the Four Founders to hold an Immortal to a draw."

He was not surprised at the collective gasps of his three students. It was a natural reaction, after all, to know that people with such power had once existed.

"The Witch Queen was the master of the occult and divination. Her knowledge about these fields was unparalleled. She made a detailed study on the soul and determined the effects of creating a horcrux on the soul. According to her, the soul is the purest form of existence. Irrespective of how evil a person is, the soul remains as a purified form of light. Even a soul scarred by murder heals itself."

"However, when a horcrux is made, the soul is damaged beyond repair. What was once pure now becomes tainted. Darkness stains the soul permanently. Voldemort has found some way to draw power from that darkness. The question is how."

"Don't you know, Professor?" asked Ron.

"I am afraid not, Mr. Weasley", replied the headmaster. "But I may know someone who could have the answers."

"Someone knows more about magic than you, Professor?" asked Hermione, surprised. She had always believed that if Dumbledore did not have the answer to a question then nobody else would.

"Ah, Miss Granger", said Dumbledore, gently, "the world of magic is too vast for any one person to have all the answers. Pardon me for sounding arrogant, but while I do know a lot about some fields of magic, there are areas of magic that I have absolutely no clue about and some areas of magic I am grateful I know nothing about. Although witches and wizards live far longer than muggles, even our extended lifetimes are not enough to understand the true extent of magic."

He sighed. "In any case, I had better leave. It would not be good if the Ministry knew I was here. A lot has changed now. I never anticipated this. Take care. I will be in touch with you soon."

So saying, he rose and moved towards the door to leave. But before he could leave, Harry said, "You have still not told me about the prophecy."

Dumbledore turned around with a frown. "Perhaps later Harry, in a more private setting."

"Look, I will be telling them whatever you tell me", said Harry. "You may as well tell me now."

"Are you sure?" asked Dumbledore, who had never wanted to have this discussion.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Are you actually asking me that question?"

"Very well, Harry." And so, Dumbledore explained the entire prophecy to them. They listened in stunned silence.

Hermione was the first to break the silence. "Oh Harry!", she cried, her voice breaking.

Ron turned to Dumbledore, "So does that mean that Harry…" His voice trailed off.

"That Harry has to defeat Voldemort? Yes, it seems that way."

Dumbledore looked at Harry, who had not spoken a single word. "Harry, are you alright?"

"Considering everything that has happened in the last forty-eight hours, I think this is pretty mild." Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I'm going to sleep", he said, taking the vial of Dreamless Sleep Potion from his bedside table.

"Bottoms-up", he said, finishing the potion in a single gulp. He crashed back onto his pillows and was out like a light.

"Professor...", Hermione bit her lip, nervously.

"Let him be, Miss Granger", said Dumbledore, wearily. "He will need time to come to terms with everything that has happened. He will need your support now and in the future. Goodnight, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger." And, he strode out of the Hospital Wing.

Hermione turned to Ron, "Poor Harry! Ron, we can't leave him alone. We will just have to be with him at all times."

Ron snorted, "And do what? Come on Hermione, you were there at the Department of Mysteries, too. We were no match for them. And, they weren't even trying."

"So what are you saying, Ron?"

Ron looked at his best friend, who was sleeping blissfully for once. "We are of no use to him, as we are now. We'll just have to become stronger. When he finally has to face that bastard, we're going to be by his side."

Hermione looked at him in wonder and asked softly,"Wow, when did you grow-up?"

Ron smiled back, grimly, "Watching your best friend's corpse can have that effect sometimes. I won't fail again Hermione. I never want to feel so useless again."

He fell back onto his pillow, leaving his female friend to her thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

He knew that he should not be annoyed. This was not the first time after all. But he could not help it. The whispers and stares were really annoying him.

But he guessed it was natural. The first time, he had only survived the Killing Curse. But this time, he had actually come back from the dead. He desperately wished that no one had ever found out about his death, but the damned Ministry had declared it publicly.

In spite of Ron and Hermione's best attempts to keep hm away from the Daily Prophet – not that he was interested in that rag at all – the whispers of the other students clearly told him what was happening. Apparently, he had used some clever Dark Magic to resurrect himself.

_Really? How much did they sell their brains for?_

He could clearly see the fear in the eyes of many students. The worst part was that even many members of the Dumbledore's Army would avert their eyes when he came across them. So he had decided to wander the grounds instead, but it was a Sunday and he found that he could not avoid the staring eyes even there.

_Maybe I should go to the kitchen and head back to bed._

It was the only place where he could avoid them and although it was still noon, he felt it was the better choice.

Harry felt that he had reached his limit. Year-after-year, for some reason or the other, he was always made a scapegoat by the Hogwarts community or the wizarding world. And, he was sick and tired of it.

And that was just one of the reasons he was annoyed. Ever since he had come back to life, he had been feeling strange. The first thing was a peculiar sensation that he felt from within him. He was not sure what it was but it felt alive – well, not exactly alive – as though it was calling out to him. The other thing was that he felt...aware.

It was something small but he was able to know things without having to rely on his senses. Just last night, he had been able to tell that it was Ron who had entered the room, although he had only just entered and not made any sound. And, Harry, hidden by the curtains of his bed, was definitely unable to see him. He had simply known.

He wished there was someone he could ask. But McGonagall would not return till the next day. And nobody knew where Dumbledore was. Dolores Umbridge was still in charge, although she was still in the Hospital Wing. Harry wished Dumbledore had left her in the forest. She would, no doubt, be after his blood.

He entered the Entrance Hall and turned to move towards the kitchens when he suddenly threw himself onto the floor. Three spells whizzed through the space where his head had been a moment ago, from behind him. He snarled and jumped up, wand in hand.

Three Slytherin boys – seventh year, thought Harry – walked towards him, their wands raised and smug grins on their faces.

"What do you want?" asked Harry, scowling. He could feel his blood begin to boil.

"Well Potter, as we are members of the Inquisitorial Squad," he said pointing to the silver badge on his robe, "we think we need to take you out before you hurt other students."

"What?"

"You've heard the Prophet, Potter", came a voice from behind him. Harry turned around and saw, Draco Malfoy, Theodre Nott, Blaise Zabini and two other sixth year Slytherins come from the stairs leading to the dungeons. All of them had their wands out.

"The Ministry says that you obviously possess some kind of evil magic. I think everyone agrees with them. I mean how else could you come back to life. It probably had something to do with some dark magic ritual that your pathetic parents performed."

"My parents?" said Harry, his voice, a deadly quiet.

"You seriously don't read the Prophet, do you, Potter?" asked Malfoy, sneering. "Anyway, we're going to lock you up somewhere till Professor Umbridge can decide what to do with you. For the other students' sake", he said chuckling even as they surrounded Harry.

"_Stupefy_", Harry said quietly, causing one of the sixth-years to drop immediately.

The others started firing curses at him immediately. A few days ago, being outnumbered, seven against one, should have very easily destroyed him. But now, in spite of all the curses being fired, he was successfully able to dodge them, even as he kept casting a shield charm. He was able to sense the incoming spells, even the ones from behind.

The Slytherins, now became cautious in their casting, having lost another one of their members – a seventh year, this time – to friendly fire.

Harry dodged, and dodged again. He was not able to cast any offensive spells but he kept deflecting as many spells as he could. Although he did not realize this, his abilities were increasing steadily the longer he fought. But it was clearly visible to the Slytherins and the students who had gathered to observe the fight.

But, against six opponents, he could not keep fighting forever. Although his abilities had increased, he kept getting more and more tired. It showed when a curse finally hit him, leaving a deep gash on his shoulder.

He stumbled, and a second spell hit him on the knee. He howled as his knee broke and he fell onto the floor. The others stopped firing curses as they broke out in laughter pointing and jeering at Harry who was now dripping blood on the floor from his wounded shoulder.

"What's wrong, Potter? Had enough?" jeered Malfoy.

Harry gritted his teeth. He was trying not to scream from the pain. He glanced at his leg and saw that it was bent at an odd angle.

There was no way he was going to let Malfoy and the others take him like this. He looked around into the surrounding crowd and realized that he was not going to get any help from them.

_Bastards!_

There were members of the DA amongst the crowd, but they averted their eyes and made no move to help him. He wanted to scream in frustration. He could feel his blood begin to boil. He paused.

His blood was actually boiling. No, it was something else. And, suddenly he realized that this was the same feeling that he had been having for the last couple of days: as though something was calling out to him. But it was stronger than ever now. He could feel it right underneath his skin.

He saw Malfoy raise his wand. In that instant, he reached out to that feeling.

"AAAAAARGH"

A terrible pain ripped through every single cell in his body for a moment, before there was a blinding flash of light followed by a stunned silence.

Harry opened his eyes and was stunned by what he saw. Malfoy, Nott and the other Slytherin boys lay on the ground unconscious, their bodies smoking slightly. He moved to get up and his eyes widened. He quickly looked down at himself.

_What the..._

His leg and shoulder had healed completely. The only signs that he had been injured were his torn robes and the dried blood on them. But that was not what truly shocked him.

His entire body was glowing lightly with electric currents appearing throughout. That weird, intense feeling was also gone. He stared at his body for a moment before trying to stop the lightning. To his surprise, the lightning withdrew immediately and his body stopped glowing.

He looked around and saw the other students staring at him with surprise and a little fear. He wondered what those morons were going to think now. He decided to head back to his dormitory and the crowd cleared a path to let him pass.

* * *

Harry sat on his bed, watching the little electric currents appear on his hand. This was easy. He was able to summon lightning by merely a thought. He was broken out of his concentration by the sound of running steps. He smiled slightly. The door flung open and Ron and Hermione came running in.

"Harry", panted Hermione, "your version. Now!"

So, Harry explained everything to them. Ron snarled, and was about to get up but was stopped by Hermione.

"Ron! No!"

"Hermione, we can't sit back and do nothing. We..."

"No, Ron", said Harry, "she's right. Malfoy has the backing of Umbridge, the Ministry and his dad. We don't have anyone backing us right now. I'm definitely going to face some serious trouble."

"So, what do you want do?" asked Ron.

Harry looked towards the door again as it swung open once more to let in Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley.

"Harry, are you alright?" asked Ginny, anxiously.

"Yeah mate, we heard what happened", said Neville.

Ron explained what had happened throwing in some violent suggestions about what he would like to do to those Slytherins, while Ginny seemed to be in agreement with those suggestions. Hermione had then exasperatedly explained why they could not simply attack them.

Neville, though, looked at Harry curiously, "Harry, is it true that your body shot out lightning?"

This made the others turn towards Harry, who simply stood up. A second later, his body was lightly glowing enveloped by bluish electric currents.

"Wow, mate," said a wide-eyed Ron.

"Harry, how..." asked Hermione.

"I don't know, Hermione", he replied, turning the lightning off. "All I know is that I'm able to summon it whenever I want."

"So, what are you going to do now?" asked Ginny.

"Right now, nothing.", said Harry, grimly. "Maybe I'll go for dinner later. To the Great Hall."

"To the..." sputtered Hermione. "Harry, is that smart? I mean..."

"I know", interrupted Harry. "But I'm tired Hermione. Tired of being the scapegoat each and every time, tired of the whispers, the stares. They want to say something, they can say it to my face."

"OK Harry", said Ginny. "But you're not going alone. We'll all go together."

"She's right, mate", said Ron.

"But that's not safe. You guys will become targets as well", said Harry, feeling very agitated.

"Not in your hands, mate", said Ron.

"He's right Harry", said Hermione, gently. "After everything we've been through, did you think we would let you go through this alone?"

"We're supposed to be best friends, right?" said Ron.

Harry felt a little overwhelmed. Never before had he appreciated his friends as much as he did now. He nodded.

"So it's decided. I'll meet you guys in the common room around dinner-time", said Ginny. "Coming, Hermione?"

The brunette nodded and moved to join her.

As the girls left the room, Ginny had one last thing to tell Harry, "Oh and Luna sends her regards as well. She wanted me to tell you that she is on your side."

And the girls left, leaving the three boys in surprised silence.

"Luna, huh?" said Ron. "She's not so bad after all."

"Yeah", replied Harry, pensively. "You're right."

* * *

Dinner was interesting to say the least. When he had entered the Great Hall, it had fallen silent for a moment before the whispers and stares began. Except for Luna, of course, who waved cheerfully from her table.

The rest of the hall, though seemed to look at him with varying degrees of hostility. The only exceptions were Dean Thomas, the Creevy brothers, the three Gryffindor Chasers and Professor Flitwick, who nodded encouragingly at Harry.

His friends sat surrounding him, trying to shield him from the others. And although Harry wished he could call upon his lightning again, he knew that would be pretty stupid.

Dinner was however interrupted when the doors opened with a bang. Five Aurors entered the Great Hall, their wands drawn. Professor Flitwick rushed from the High Table to meet them. There was a short discussion, with Flitwick growing angrier by the second. Finally, the Auror who seemed to be their leader, produced an official looking document. Flitwick scanned it with a resigned expression on his face.

The lead Auror turned towards the Gryffindor table and said, "Harry potter, by the order of the Minister of Magic, you are hereby placed under arrest for the brutal attack on seven Slytherin students. Anyone who assists you will be charged as an accomplice."

Harry swiftly grabbed Ron's hand and shook his head. He knew what his rash friend would have done.

"I don't want any one of you doing anything. No, you guys," he said quickly, stopping them from protesting, "it will only make things worse."

They nodded reluctantly, and he stood up and walked towards the Aurors.

"Good Potter", said the lead Auror. "Now, surrender your wand and you will be taken in for questioning."

"Mr. Potter", said Flitwick, "I am so sorry..."

"It's ok Professor", he replied, not taking his eyes off the Aurors. "Just make sure nothing happens to my friends."

Harry knew that if he surrendered, he was probably going to end up in Azkaban or as a research experiment in the Department of Mysteries. He would have to escape. There was no other choice.

He drew his wand out, while keeping his left hand hidden from view.

"There's no way I'm going to surrender to you lot", he said coldly.

"As you wish, Potter", said the lead Auror. Another Auror stepped out from the group and quickly cast a silent spell at him. Harry reacted with a Shield Charm and instantly sent torrents of lightning at the Auror with his left hand.

The Auror blocked the lightning and charged towards Harry. It was far worse than fighting the seven Slytherins. The Auror possessed superior skills, power, speed and spell variations. Although Harry's own power and speed had increased, it was no match for the Auror's. Finally, out of sheer desperation, he sent lightning flying in every direction around him. The Auror's spell tore through the lighting sheet covering his body and hit him. Harry was sent flying away and he landed hard on the stone floor. His whole body felt numb. He could barely move.

His friends looked like they wanted to help him but were being held back by Flitwick. Some students, mostly Slytherins, seemed particularly gleeful at his situation. Harry wanted to puke, he wanted to scream. Never had he imagined that there would be such a massive difference in power between him and the Aurors. He made another attempt to move but could barely budge an inch.

"How interesting!" came a sudden, cheerful voice.

Everyone turned towards the doors and saw a man there. He was covered neck-down in a long,black traveler's cloak. He had a lightly tanned skin, shoulder-length black hair, and black eyes. In the hall, Flitwick's eyes widened in recognition and a tiny bit of trepidation.

"Who are you?" asked the lead Auror.

"Me? Nobody," he replied cheerfully. "I am just looking for a Mr. Harry Potter." He looked at the floor where Harry lay, "Hey, you on the floor, you Harry Potter?"

"Mr. Potter is under arrest. I am afraid you will have to conduct your business another time", said the lead Auror.

"I am afraid not", the stranger replied still cheerful. "I have a contract, you see."

"Oh, so you are a Hunter", said the lead Auror.

"It doesn't matter", said the Auror who had attacked Harry. " We still outnumber you five-to-one."

"You outnumber me five-to-one?", the stranger laughed. "How cute!"

There was a flash of red light and all the Aurors lay on the floor, unconscious. The entire Great Hall gaped at the sight.

The stranger moved towards Harry and placed a hand on his shoulder. Warmth trickled through his body and he felt the numbness disappear completely. Harry slowly got up to his feet. He stared at the man in awe.

"Well, Mr. Potter. I've already dealt with your luggage and your pet owl", he said, thrusting a small object into Harry's hand. "And three, two, one!"

Harry felt a familiar jerk on his navel, as the world dissolved into a swirl of colours.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Harry stumbled as he appeared inside a gloomy kitchen. Looking around, he realized that he was in Grimmauld Place. He turned towards the stranger but was startled by the look on his face. Gone was the cheery disposition that he had had at Hogwarts. In its place, was an icy mask of indifference as he stared towards the door leading to the kitchen.

The door opened and in walked Albus Dumbledore, his face grave. The two men stared at each other for a moment before Dumbledore asked, "There were no problems, I trust?"

"None", said the stranger. "The house-elf, Dobby, moved all of Harry Potter's luggage and his pet to this location, just as you said he would. I found Potter in the Great Hall surrounded by five Aurors. I stunned them and brought Potter here using the portkey that you gave me."

"I see", said Dumbledore. "Very well." He reached into his pocket and pulled a pouch. "Your payment."

The stranger took the pouch and walked towards the door.

"What if I wish to contact you again?" asked Dumbledore suddenly.

"If it is for another lame job, don't bother", said the man. "Otherwise, I will be at the same place." The man opened the door and walked out.

Dumbledore sighed and turned towards Harry.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, who was that? And what was that with the Aurors?"

"I grossly underestimated the influence of the likes of Lucius Malfoy on the Ministry", said Dumbledore, tiredly sitting on one of the chairs.

"The Ministry believes you to be dangerous. There are also rumours that your parents may have performed some very powerful dark ritual which is what keeps protecting you from the Killing Curse, rumours that may have been started by the likes of Lucius Malfoy. Fudge had already set his mind on arresting you. He just needed a reason."

"When I realized that, I contacted the Jackal."

"The Jackal?" asked Harry. "You mean the guy who saved me?"

"Yes, indeed," nodded Dumbledore. "He is a Hunter with a legendary reputation. Legendary enough to act as a deterrent to the Ministry."

"What is a Hunter?" asked Harry.

"Well, about six hundred years ago, there was a very powerful group of bounty hunters called the Hunters. Every member of that group was extremely skilled. They eventually broke up but the individual members were still referred to as a Hunter. Eventually, those who followed in the footsteps of the original members were also referred to as Hunters. About a century later, they started branching out into other activities such as retrieval, assassinations, espionage, stealth, theft, protection, escorting, treasure hunting and many others."

"They are still called as Hunters though. Hunters operate entirely on a contract basis. They are often hired by individuals, organizations and even Ministries. And every Hunter, is known by their code name that they adopt after becoming Hunters."

"The Jackal is regarded as the most powerful Hunter to have ever existed. He retired about five years ago, because he no longer found his assignments to be challenging. But while he was active, he was known to be extremely ruthless, precise and professional. He has never failed a mission. And no client has ever attempted to double-cross him. I have been searching for him for the last few months and finally found him two days ago. He took this mission because I was the client. I suppose I made him curious about why I would need his help."

Harry thought over everything he had heard. He had realized that the man had been very powerful but he had no idea he was this powerful.

"What if he fought you, or Voldemort? Who do you think would win?" asked Harry.

Dumbledore closed his eyes in thought. He nodded to himself and looked at Harry.

"Had he fought Voldemort, before he started gaining these new powers and without the protection of the horcruxes, the battle would have ended in a draw or perhaps have resulted in Voldemort's defeat."

"But if he and I fought, well Harry, I certainly would be the victor, but that would also be my last fight for I would be permanently crippled."

This was insane. To think that the stranger had been so strong.

"Harry, understand this, that both Voldemort and myself possess far greater knowledge of spells than he does. But what he lacks in magical knowledge, he makes up for in strength and battle skills. Indeed, his magical power is comparable to my own. And, his battle skills are perhaps the greatest in the world."

"But enough about him, we have other matters to discuss."

Dumbledore looked gravely at him.

"Now Harry, can you tell me what exactly happened today?"

Harry found himself telling Dumbledore everything, about how he had been attacked, the appearance of the lightning, the Aurors and finally the Jackal's arrival.

"Can you show me this lightning?" asked Dumbledore.

Instantly, Harry was enveloped in electric currents. Dumbledore watched the currents closely.

"How intriguing!" he said. "Perhaps, this is the power that Death spoke to you about. And, it may also explain why your scar took the shape of a bolt of lightning. After all, none of the other survivors had such specifically shaped scars."

"What?" asked a surprised Harry, his lightning turning off.

"Ah, we never discussed this, did we?" said Dumbledore. "Harry, you are not the first survivor of the Killing Curse, only the most famous."

"There have been other survivors of the Killing Curse?" asked Harry, flabbergasted. "But...But why are their names not known? Why am I the only famous one?"

"The main reason that you are famous is because of the wizard who cast that curse on you", explained Dumbledore. "You will never find mention of these people in any book because none of the people involved were noteworthy. They were ordinary people. The casters were not very powerful wizards who had terrorized the world for a decade. Most of this information has been passed through word-of-mouth."

"But observe this Harry, that in each case, sacrifice was the common key. Someone had voluntarily exchanged their life for the survivor's. These were people who had the choice of escaping, of remaining alive, but they chose to die instead. A life for a life."

"In your case Harry, it was your mother who made that sacrifice because she was given that choice. Your father, on the other hand, could not have made that sacrifice, because he did not have that choice. Voldemort had intended to kill him regardless."

Harry asked, his voice trembling, "So that means it really...?"

"It was not your fault", said Dumbledore, gently. "Your parents did what every decent parent who love their children would have done. By wishing that they should have done otherwise, you insult them and their love for you. You did not ask Voldemort to attack you. If it puts your mind at ease, he would have killed them even if you had not existed. They did oppose him after all."

Harry stared into the fireplace for a few minutes. Then he turned towards Dumbledore, "So, what now?"

"With the Ministry actively hunting you, you can no longer return to the Dursleys, as they are aware of the Dursley's residence", said Dumbledore. "And as much as you may hate being here, you must do so until I can make other arrangements. And that will take some time."

"I must also inform you that as per Sirius' will, you are now the sole master of the Black fortune. Grimmauld Place belongs to you."

Harry flinched on hearing Sirius' name. He did not need this at that moment.

"Look, I don't care about this place. The Order can have it", he said.

"Thank you, Harry", said the Headmaster. "But I will need to conduct a small test to ensure that you indeed do have control over Grimmauld Place."

He drew his wand and flicked it. There was a loud crack and Kreacher appeared. He was repeatedly screaming, "WON'T WON'T WON'T! KREACHER WON'T!"

"As you can see Harry," said Dumbledore, his calm voice easily carrying over the screaming house-elf's, "Kreacher does not wish to pass into your ownership. Bear in mind though, that if you refuse to be his master, he can easily go to Bellatrix or Narcissa and he has spent an entire year in the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

Harry stared at Kreacher with utmost hatred. He wanted nothing to do with the thing that had caused Sirius' death. But he did not want him to end up with Lestrange either, not when he could reveal secrets about the Order. So he turned towards the Headmaster, "What must I do?"

"Just give him an order", Dumbledore replied. "If you are indeed his  
master, he will have no choice but to obey you."

Harry turned towards Kreacher and said the first thing that came to his mind, "Kreacher, shut up!"

The elf stopped shouting although his lips kept moving.

"Very well," said Dumbledore. "This proves that you are indeed the true heir of Sirius Black. If I may suggest, you can send him to the kitchens of Hogwarts. The house-elves there will keep an eye on him."

"But you are no longer the Headmaster. How can you command the house-elves?"

Dumbledore replied, "The Ministry may not consider me as the Headmaster but Hogwarts still does. It is an institution older and more powerful than the Ministry and no law they make can override it, no matter what the fools in the Ministry may believe. The house-elves will respond to my command."

Harry nodded. "Kreacher, go to the kitchens in Hogwarts and do whatever the house-elves there tell you. Do not leave unless I command you to do so."

Kreacher gave him a look of deep loathing before disapparating.

"There is one last matter that I must discuss with you", said Dumbledore. "Do you remember our discussion about horcruxes?"

Harry nodded.

"There is a person I know", said Dumbledore. "She is...well I don't think we are allies...and we are certainly not friends...perhaps acquaintance is the right word...yes, an acquaintance. I believe she may have the answers about the increase in Voldemort's powers. I shall leave in a few days to try and locate her. She owes me a favour and it is time I asked for it."

"Who is she, Professor?" asked Harry.

"An exceptionally powerful witch", was all he said.

"Now Harry, it will probably be at least a fortnight before we can meet again. In the meanwhile, Remus Lupin will stay with you here. In fact," he pulled a watch out of his pocket, "he should be arriving here shortly. Speak of the devil!"

Both Dumbledore and Harry looked up. Harry had felt a familiar presence enter Grimmauld Place and realized that the headmaster had done so too.

A few seconds later, Lupin walked into the kitchen. "Professor, Harry" he nodded.

Dumbledore rose. "Hello Remus. Right on time, I see. Very well then, I leave you in charge of young Harry here. Harry, please do not leave the house until I give the go ahead. Good night Harry, Remus."

And he walked out of the door.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Remus moved to sit across Harry after Dumbledore left. Harry felt a familiar guilt gnawing at him. The man looked terrible. It was obvious that losing his best friend had affected him.

But he still managed to give Harry a kind smile as he said, "Are you alright Harry? The house-elves at Hogwarts told Dumbledore what happened."

"Yeah, I'm fine Professor", he replied, trying to smile back.

"I don't think I have been your professor in two years. Call me Remus, Harry."

"Ok, it will be a bit odd though," said Harry.

"Oh, I know that", said Remus, chuckling. "After all, I spent an entire year as a colleague to my former teachers. But you'll get used it."

"Yeah, I guess," said Harry, looking at the table.

Finally, he could not take it anymore. He blurted out, "Prof...I mean, Remus, look, I am so sorry."

"Harry, what are you sorry about?" asked Remus, looking startled.

"It's my fault that Sirius is dead", he said, holding his head in his hands. In the light of everything else that had happened, he had been able to suppress his feelings. But he found that he could no longer do so. Sitting in front of the last of his father's friends had opened a dam.

"If I hadn't been so stupid, if I had only listened, Sirius wouldn't be d...dead", he said, his voice breaking. "But no, I had to be stupid, I had to be a hero."

"Harry", said Remus, gently. "It's not your fault."

He sighed and stood up. He walked slowly towards the fireplace.

"In an ideal world, children must listen to adults because adults know what they are doing, they are wise and are never wrong. But that never actually happens. There are so many things that we do not know, do not understand. Sometimes, we pretend that we cannot see something because it would be unpleasant to look at. You should have been informed. Perhaps not everything, but certainly those matters which directly concerned you."

"But we thought, 'he is just fifteen'. We remembered what we were like when we were fifteen. So we just assumed that you would be the same. We did not want to acknowledge that you had gone through experiences in fifteen years that most would not experience in their entire lifetimes. To do so would mean to admit failure on our parts. So, we deluded ourselves into believing that you were perfectly fine not knowing."

"For a man who had been absent for most of your life, Sirius understood you best. He had argued right from the first day that you needed to be told about everything. He would actually bring it up in every meeting and even outside meetings. But only Mad-Eye backed him. In the end, he was right. Our decision to not keep you informed cost us Sirius and we nearly lost you as well."

He looked at Harry for a moment before saying, "Why don't you come with me for a moment?"

Harry followed him out of the kitchen and up the stairs. After climbing several flights of stairs, they reached the topmost landing. Remus led him to a door with a nameplate that read '_Sirius_'. Harry felt suffocated. He did not want to enter this room.

"Please come in", said Remus, his voice tight, as he held the door open.

Harry entered the room and blinked. It was as though he had entered a different house altogether.

The room was spacious with a large bed that had a carved headboard, a tall window with long velvet curtains, and a candle chandelier. The room was decorated with Gryffindor banners and colours. The walls of the room were covered with so many pictures that it was barely possible to see the wallpaper. Harry took a closer look at the pictures and had to admire Sirius' guts. Many of them were pictures of Muggle motorcycles and bikini-clad girls. He assumed there was a Permanent Sticking Charm holding them in place. At the center of these pictures, there was a single photograph of the Marauders smiling and waving at the camera.

"Over the last few months, he rarely left this room", said Remus, looking tired. "He was losing himself slowly. I remember, all those years ago, when he had sent me an owl telling me he had left this place forever. He had been so happy. He really hated this place. And then to be stuck here, unable to leave at all. He never even wanted to return to this place. This room was his escape. He only needed a reason to leave."

"And I gave him that reason", said Harry. "He had even given me those mirrors, but I didn't think of using them. I didn't even remember I had them. I never even bothered to open the damn cover."

"I know", said Remus. "When Sirius told me, I knew you would never use it. Not with the way he had worded it. And I had called him an idiot then."

He laughed bitterly. "I was supposed to be his best friend. But I let my loyalty to Dumbledore override my senses. I could have helped him, could have talked to Dumbledore, could have done something, but I did nothing."

He paused for a moment, staring at the photograph of the Marauders.

"You know, Harry, he normally would never have fought the way he did in the Department of Mysteries. He was usually more cautious, more controlled. But that was the first time he had seen the outside world since he left you at King's Cross. He fought like a madman and paid for it."

Harry said nothing. There really wasn't anything to say.

"There's something else Harry", said Remus, walking towards a drawer, opening it. He pulled out a couple of photos and some parchment. "We found this along with his will. We think he wanted to show this to you."

Harry took the items from Remus. The parchment was a letter that his mother had written to Sirius. He read the letter without really taking in its contents. Here was physical proof that his mother had once lived, that she had written this letter, that she had loved him. He looked at the photo that had come with the letter. It was a photo of him, as a toddler, flying happily on a toy broomstick, with his father chasing him and his mother cheering him on. He stared at he photo for a moment before turning to the other photo.

It was a photo of his baby-self with Sirius. Sirius was sitting on a large motorbike wearing a leather jacket. Sitting with him was his baby-self, wearing a tiny helmet, happily trying to reach the handlebars.

It was a little difficult for Harry to believe that there actually had been a time when he had truly been happy. But looking at the photographs, he realized how happy he had once been. And how that he could never have that happiness again. There was so much he wished he could tell his parents, so much that he wished he had told Sirius. Everything that had happened over the last few days came rushing at him

Remus Lupin quietly left the room and closed the door, his eyes moist, as Harry broke down, his grief finally finding a release.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore had been very relieved when he heard that Harry had finally grieved Sirius' death. He had been worried by Harry's rather stoic behaviour since his revival. It would have been dangerous for Harry to keep that grief bottled up. He, Dumbledore, personally knew the devastation that it could cause.

_Focus._

He snapped his mind back in place. It was not the right time to be worried about events that had happened a week before. The rainforests of Africa were quite dangerous after all. More so, because of who he was about to meet.

It had taken him a few days to locate her. But, fortunately, she had agreed to hear him out. He had been walking for half-an-hour towards the east through the dark forests. He finally saw what he thought was the landmark.

It was a gigantic tree, gigantic even by the forest's standards. It was as tall as any of the other trees in the forest and it's diameter was at least ten metres. Dumbledore could sense a strong magical aura coming from the tree.

He walked past the tree and stepped into a clearing. It was breathtakingly beautiful. The clearing was filled with flowers of nearly every kind. He could see a clear lake some way ahead. Next to the lake was a small cottage that looked like it had come out of a fairy tail. It was a small cottage covered in ivy and honeysuckle.

He approached the cottage and found who he was looking for. She was a old, black woman with hair as white as Dumbledore's. She was short and plump. She wore blood red robes and was sipping on what looked like apple juice as she sat outside the cottage staring out at the lake.

"Lady Abena", said Dumbledore, bowing to her.

"Albus Dumbledore", she said, without looking up. Her voice was soft but there was a clear aura of authority in it. "Have a seat", she pointed to a chair next to her, which had previously not been there.

Dumbledore took the seat and they both sat in silence for some time. Finally, she spoke, "So what brings you here? I was quite surprised to hear from you. Come to ask for the favour have you."

"In a manner of speaking", he replied. "I have come to seek your help with horcruxes."

She looked at him sharply, "In plural? Explain."

Dumbledore explained everything that had had happened in the last few weeks. He also explained his theories on Voldemort's horcruxes and the events that had happened in the last few years.

"You are the only person I know who can help us", said Dumbledore. "There is no one alive who knows and understands the Witch Queen's theories as much as you do."

"I understand", the red-robed lady said. "I must say that I never actually thought there would be a practical example for the Witch Queen's Soul Aura Absorption theory. Are you sure that he made seven horcruxes?"

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, while he did intend to make six, he accidentally made a seventh as well."

"This is not good", she said, pensively. "While I would normally not involve myself in this mess, the situation may have gotten out of hand completely. I will need to be in Britain if I am to determine how bad this situation is."

"Then you will come?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes, I have a few matters to resolve here. I will be there in a fortnight. Oh don't look like that", she said, chuckling at the look on Dumbledore's face. "it will be months before the situation gets out of hand."

She got up and sighed, "I will not lie though. If my guess is right, the entire world is in grave danger. I can't believe I am saying this but you and I may have to work together. We may also need the Jackal's full services."

"I see", said Dumbledore, getting up. He handed her a slip of paper which she read with an eyebrow raised. As soon as she had finished reading it, the paper turned to dust and fell to the ground.

"Fidelius", she said, looking at Dumbledore.

"Indeed, Lady Abena", said Dumbledore. "So I shall meet you there in exactly a fortnight from now?"

"Yes", replied Abena. "Prepare a good room for me, will you?"

And then the entire world around Dumbledore shattered like glass – Abena including – and he found himself standing in the midst of the forest again. He turned around and found himself standing only a foot away from the gigantic tree. There was no clearing, no lake, no cottage and definitely no Abena.

"Hmmm, it seems that your Magic Mirror art is still as strong as ever, Lady Abena", he said, with a small smile. "To create such a powerful illusion...I look forward to seeing you again."

And he disapparated from the forest.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

A lone dark figure stood on a cliff's edge watching the sun set, even as the waves crashed onto the rocks below him. He was covered from head to toe in a black robe, his hands folded and his eyes closed as he took long deep breaths.

Suddenly, five figures materialized behind him with a small pop. They knelt before him, waiting silently for him to acknowledge them.

"Report", came his cold voice.

"Master", said the one in the centre, taking his mask off and revealing himself to be Lucius Malfoy, "we have successfully misdirected the Ministry. They continue to remain ignorant of your existence. Also, they have intensified their efforts against Dumbledore and his group."

He hesitated for a moment before continuing, "They went after Potter. But he was apparently rescued by someone who matches the description of the Jackal."

The man turned around. He had little hair on his head. His face looked as though it had been badly burnt and his eyes were blood red.

"The Jackal?", said Lord Voldemort, sounding somewhat amused. "Not bad, Dumbledore. You are finally taking this seriously." He looked at Malfoy, "I suppose even Fudge is not stupid enough to go after him."

"No, master", he replied. "Jackal's presence has made them nervous. They will not be attempting to arrest Potter for some time."

"Keep up with your misdirections", said Voldemort. "I do not want the Ministry to know about my return yet. I trust you can do that much at least?"

Malfoy recognized the taunt, but said nothing about it. Instead he said, "Yes master, I will not fail you this time."

"We shall see", said Voldemort, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Macnair."

Walden Macnair took his mask off.

"My Lord, Greyback's pack has already re-entered your service. He awaits your orders. He has also started rallying the other packs. Of the thirteen packs, four have entered your service. Greyback expects to turn another two to our cause by another fortnight."

"Not bad", said Voldemort. "What about the other creatures?"

"The giants have been transported and their accommodations and equipment have been prepared. They are ready for attack. The breeding grounds for the Dementors will be ready in a month's time. They have agreed to join forces with us."

"Hmmm, Macnair, I want you to identify all the trolls in the country that can be used for battle. The centaurs will not join us. I will deal with them in time. And it is too soon to approach the vampires", said Voldemort.

"The vampires, my Lord?" asked Macnair, startled.

"Yes, them", said Voldemort. "Macnair, are you scared?"

"I...I'm just not sure if they can be trusted", said Macnair.

"They will not have a choice", said Voldemort, with complete certainty. The Death-Eaters glanced at each other. In the pats few days, the Dark Lord had changed. He was calmer now, less prone to torturing them and yet he was more terrifying, more controlled, more powerful. They did not know what had caused this change.

"Selwyn", Voldemort turned to another Death-Eater, who took his mask off to reveal a handsome man with brown hair, "the recruitment?"

"Our ranks have swelled, my Lord", said Selwyn. "The number of lower ranked Death-Eaters have gone up to nearly a hundred and fifty. I have also found 25 candidates to be allowed into the inner circle. A large number of petty criminals are also being recruited."

"Your son is one of the candidates, I assume?" asked Voldemort.

"Yes, my Lord".

"I have heard many things about him", said Voldemort. "I will be most interested in meeting him."

"Of course, master", said a delighted Selwyn.

"Continue with the recruitment, Selwyn", said Voldemort. "Bellatrix."

The only female Death-Eater took her mask off.

"My Lord, I have contacted our old agents in three countries", she said. "It will take at the most two months to activate all our agents across Europe."

"That is fine", he replied. "Severus."

The Potions Master of Hogwarts took his mask off.

"My Lord", he said, "I am afraid I have very little information. Dumbledore has been taking many sudden steps. His hiring of the Jackal came as a shock to the entire Order. Three days ago, he appointed Alastor Moody as the temporary head, and disappeared. He seems very wary."

"Potter is currently in Headquarters. So far, there have been no explanations for his strange new powers. It has stumped Dumbledore as well."

"That is fine", said Voldemort. "Let Potter be. I will deal with him some day. But not now. He is not important enough. I will say this only once to all of you. I want everything ready by the end of this year. I will not tolerate any mistakes from any one of you. Now, begone!"

As one, the Death-Eaters disapparated.

Voldemort turned back to look at the sunset. He took a deep breath and gathered his powers. The grass around him turned to stone. He smiled.

His power had increased tremendously. And his control over it was increasing steadily. But it would take a few months for his powers to stabilize. But, if his theory was correct, then the world would fall to him.

He had been taken by surprise at the sudden power surge when Potter had fallen. But the more he contemplated on it, the more he realized that the surge was linked to both, his horcruxes and the years he had spent as a spirit. He had never realized that when he had latched onto the darkness for survival, it would have such wonderful side-effects. If his hypothesis was correct, then his horcruxes were the key to immortality in a way he had never imagined.

But he would be patient. His mind and thoughts were clearer now. He would not make a mistake this time. After all, he thought, chuckling to himself, he had all the time in the world.

* * *

It was strange, he thought. After all, the only time the Burrow was ever quiet was at night. But he guessed it was not all that surprising, since he and Ginny were the only two kids left.

The few hours after Harry's disappearance had been terrifying. It was only when Flitwick, who had received word from Dumbledore, had explained everything did he and Hermione calmed down. Now, he was back at the Burrow with nothing to do and no way to contact Harry.

"Hey Ron".

Ron turned around and saw his sister Ginny enter the room. She sat on the bed. The two siblings stared at each other for a moment.

"So..." they both started at once and stopped.

"What do you think is going to happen now?" asked Ginny.

Ron flopped onto his bed, "I don't know. Harry's at Grimmauld Place and we cannot go there for a fortnight. I asked Dad", he said, at his sister's questioning look.

"And then what?" she asked.

"We move to Grimmauld Place. Hermione will come around that time as well. Actually, I don't think even Dad knows much. It's all hush-hush", he said.

"I didn't think Dumbledore would hire someone like that guy", said Ginny, shaking her head. "I mean, you heard what Flitwick heard about him, right?"

"Yeah", said Ron, "I didn't think there would be someone that strong apart from Dumbledore and V...V...Voldemort."

"Well, we need to do something as well", said Ginny. "We can't sit on the sidelines. I mean, our whole family is in the war."

"Yeah, but you don't need to think about that. You are too..." said Ron.

"Don't you dare", Ginny said, her voice quivering in anger. "They didn't think I was too young when they slipped that diary to me, did they? One year! One year I walked around not knowing what was happening around me, nearly killing many people. Should I forget that? And now, my entire family will fight in this war and you want me to sit out? Why don't you sit out then Ron? We are only an year apart. Don't tell me what I can and cannot do. I am fighting, no matter what."

Ron, whose face had turned white during her rant – especially when she mentioned the diary – sighed and nodded tiredly.

"I understand", he said. "But I just want you to be safe."

Ginny's face softened, "And I want you to be safe as well, Ron. But I know you will have to fight in this. Please understand that I must also fight."

"Yeah, I guess", he said. He looked out of the window.

"What are we going to do though?" he asked. "Those Death-Eaters are so much stronger than us. It will take us years to get to their level. Harry needs us now."

"We don't have a choice, Ron", said Ginny. "We just have to keep trying. There is nothing else that we can do at the moment. Or we could ask Dumbledore", she suggested.

"Yeah, let's do that", said Ron, brightening. "I'm sure he could help."

"RON! GINNY! DINNER"

They both jumped.

"Oh", said Ron, "it's dinner-time already?"

"Now, that is a surprise", teased his sister. "Ronald Weasley forgetting dinner."

"Ha ha, very funny", he grumbled.

"Come on, let's go down before Mum decides to come up", said Ginny.

Before she reached the door, Ron spoke, "Hey Ginny, I'm sorry, you know."

"Why?" she asked, surprised.

"For saying that you couldn't fight in the war."

Ginny smiled and hugged her brother. Ron squirmed as the hug became a little too tight.

"You won't say that again, will you?" she asked, her voice still cheerful, even as she tightened the hug.

"No" he squeaked.

"Great", she said, releasing him, still smiling. "No hard feelings then." And she walked out of the room.

Ron rubbed his ribs. He gave a small smile and followed his sister to dinner.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Harry could not help but be pleased. He was not entirely sure whether it was completely alright to feel this happy, but being surrounded by his friends after almost three weeks of isolation, he felt a little joy was not amiss.

He was currently sitting in his room along with Ron, Hermione and Ginny, and to his great surprise, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood.

"It's really great to see you guys here, but how did you get here Neville, Luna?" he asked.

"Well", said Neville, feeling a little awkward, "Gran joined the Order. Dumbledore reckoned that it was safer for me to be here after the fiasco at the Ministry."

"Professor Dumbledore asked Daddy to leave me here for my safety", said Luna. "He is in Sweden right now. I don't think he knows though where exactly here is."

"Oh", said Harry. It was obvious that their little excursion in June had caused his friends some problems. But he knew better than to say it out loud. Especially, if the warning looks in the eyes of Ron and Hermione had anything to go by.

"So, what happened after I left?" he asked.

"Nothing good", said Hermione. "We panicked at first. But then Flitwick told us about the Jackal. Apparently, he received word from Dumbledore later that it was he who had hired that man."

"The school thinks you are a nutter though…again", said Ron. "The rumours spreading this time around have really reached new levels of stupid. You don't want to know what they are. Anyways, we have had to hex a few people occasionally for being stupid enough to confront us about you being the next dark lord. Seamus got the worst of it though. That idiot got hexed by Ginny thrice in two hours."

"Oh", said Luna, surprised. "Isn't he Dean Thomas' best friend? Won't that put a dampener on your plans with him, Ginny?"

"What plans?" asked Ron, turning towards Ginny, his eyes narrowed.

"Oh, shut up, Ron", said Ginny, rolling her eyes. "Dean approached me some time after I broke up with Michael Corner. With his O. coming up though, we decided that we would meet up after he had finished them. But with everything that happened, I really wasn't in the right frame of mind for a relationship. Besides, we decided that it was better for Seamus' health that we didn't get together. I think I would have killed him otherwise", she finished, glaring at her brother, who wisely did not open his mouth.

"Seamus too, huh?" asked Harry. "I don't get it. I died. Aren't people actually asking how I died? What about the Death-Eaters?"

Hermione bit her lip. "The Ministry have everything covered, Harry. You apparently went mad and entered a restricted area within the Ministry to prove your delusions. Once there, you interfered with some dangerous magic that caused your death. Because of the dark rituals that your parents had performed on you, you returned to life. The public do not know about the Death-Eaters."

"Umbridge has taken charge once again. And Harry…oh Harry, you have been expelled. The Aurors have orders to arrest you and to use force if necessary."

Harry felt his head swim a bit. He didn't understand why. After all, he had expected it. But to hear about it…he could never return to Hogwarts again.

"They will have to take you back, mate", said Ron, bracingly. "Once V…Voldemort makes his move, everyone will know you were speaking the truth."

Harry simply gave a small, sad smile. "We don't know when that will be, Ron. As far as we know, that could be years from now."

"You think they will tell us what's happening?" asked Neville, trying to change the subject.

The Order had gathered in the kitchen waiting for Dumbledore who was in the drawing room with the Jackal and the old woman whom everyone had addressed as Lady Abena.

"No way", scoffed Ron. "They never tell us anything."

"Not this time, Ron", said Harry, shuddering a bit. "I think they are going to involve us, as well."

"Are you alright, Harry?" asked Luna, concerned. "That's the seventh time, I think, that you shuddered like that."

"I can't help it", said Harry. "I have been able to sense magical energy for the last few weeks. And those three in the floor below us have too much of it. And I think they are actually suppressing their power. It still feels like a nuclear bomb waiting to go off."

"That strong?" asked Ron, his eyes widening.

"Yeah", said Harry. He paused looking at his friends. He knew Hermione would understand his reference to nuclear bombs but by the looks on their faces, everyone had understood what he meant.

"You know about nuclear bombs?" he asked, surprised.

"Of course, we do", said Ginny. "Those things wiped out two cities."

"Harry, why do you think nuclear weapons have not been used since 1945?" said Hermione. "The ICW along with the ministries of the world have been working actively to prevent their usage. In fact, recently they decide to step up their efforts by trying to stop new countries from making nuclear weapons."

"Oh, I see", said Harry. He had never realised that the magical world would involve itself so much into the muggle world.

"How long do you think they will take?" asked Ginny. They had been in the room for over an hour.

"There's your answer", said Luna, who had been facing the door. A silver phoenix patronus flew in through the door and said, "Everyone, please come down to the kitchen."

* * *

Dumbledore and the Jackal sat side-by-side on comfortable armchairs. They did not have anything to do but observe. In the centre of the room, Abena stood surrounded by giant, ornate mirrors in eight directions. The mirrors kept flashing different colours and Abena had her eyes closed occasionally muttering something under her breath.

"So have you thought about my job offer?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes", said the Jackal. "I will admit that I find it highly intriguing. I don't think any Hunter has ever been given such a job. And it is one that I have never done. But I am still unsure. I will need a little more time. I will give you an answer in three days."

"Very well", said Dumbledore.

"How much longer will it take?" asked the Jackal. "She has been at it for over an hour now."

"I do not know", said Dumbledore. "But we must be patient. Everything depends on her answers."

At that moment, all the mirrors started glowing at once before fusing into one single mirror. This mirror flashed four times before shrinking and floating towards Abena. The old witch grabbed the mirror and stared at it for a minute before it disappeared. She turned grimly towards the other two.

"It's worse than I thought", she said.

"Could you elaborate?" asked Dumbledore, conjuring an armchair for her.

"A horcrux is, as you know, the most dangerous and most effective form of immortality. It has been created nineteen times in the past. Of the nineteen creators, seven were killed…I mean, their souls were ejected from their body. In three of these cases, their horcruxes were destroyed causing their souls to disperse. But three of these people were actually brought back to their bodies."

"The first one was resurrected within two months of his 'death'. He was never the same again. He seemed terrified of everything and everyone. He later destroyed his own horcrux and killed himself. The second one was brought back seven months later. Her condition was even worse. She could barely function normally and had trouble recognizing anyone or anything around her. The third one was resurrected an year later and was permanently in a coma. Do you understand what I am trying to say?"

"Yes", said Dumbledore. "The longer one stays in spirit form, the more they suffer, the more incoherent they become."

"But Voldemort remained as a spirit for thirteen years", said the Jackal. "How did he retain his sanity?"

"Voldemort, the nineteenth creator of the horcrux, is also its most unique creator", said Abena. "When he was turned into a spirit, he obviously suffered. Imagine being unable to eat or sleep and being in excruciating, never-ending pain. He must have subconsciously felt the darkness around him and latched onto it, drawing on its power to sustain himself. I must say, he is quite the genius. Using the power of darkness is not as easy as it sounds."

"Well, he is perhaps the best student Hogwarts has produced since Merlin himself", said Dumbledore, wearily.

"Anyways, the longer he spent drawing on the powers of the darkness, the more he became connected with it. And when he returned to his body, that connection remained. As a result, his powers grew."

She conjured a drink and took a sip. "Even though the soul is split during the creation of a horcrux, it still maintains a connection to the broken pieces. Thus there is a possibility that the soul can be restored. However, when a horcrux is destroyed, that connection is lost and the soul is permanently tainted. Such a soul develops a stronger connection with the darkness."

"Which is what happened with Voldemort", said Dumbledore, stroking his beard. "That is why his powers have grown."

"And if he destroys all his horcruxes – you were right about the number seven, by the way – his power will be approximately twice that of the Immortals", said Abena.

"_Twice?_" asked a shocked Dumbledore.

"It gets worse", she said, grimly. "Because of his connection to the darkness, he will neither age nor will he suffer from illness. He can only be killed. And killing someone having twice the power of the Immortals will be impossible."

"Is there anything else?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes", she replied. "I am not sure about the details but he will gain powers of a different kind, something to do with the darkness."

"Is there a silver lining?" asked the Jackal, sounding bored.

"Yes", said Abena, giving the Jackal an annoyed look. "Voldemort cannot destroy all the horcruxes at once. There must be a gap of at least four months before he destroys another horcrux. If he destroys even two horcruxes at once, the power surge will be too much for him and he will suffer a serious setback by months."

"Do you think he will be aware of all this?" asked Dumbledore.

"If he is as smart as you say he is," said Abena, "he would already be aware of this. Besides, he would have seen the connection between his powers and horcruxes, by now."

Dumbledore closed his eyes in thought for some time. He then opened them and addressed Abena, "I must thank you for your time, Lady Abena. I will have to think of a plan now to counter Voldemort."

"So we go downstairs now?" asked the Jackal. "Good, I want to see this vaunted Order of yours." And he left the room.

"You know", said Abena, "I know he is a good guy but he rubs me the wrong way sometimes. He didn't react at all to the news about Voldemort's increasing power."

"He stopped caring a long time ago", said Dumbledore, a sad look in his eyes. "He has been trying to get killed in combat for the last five decades. If he did not frown upon suicide, he would long be dead."

"You seem to know him personally, Dumbledore."

"I knew the man he once was and I know what he is now", said Dumbledore, rising. "There is hardly any similarity between the two."

The two started to leave the room, but Dumbledore stopped, drawing his wand out. "I almost forgot", he muttered, sending a patronus, which glided upstairs.

"What was that?" asked Abena.

"I sent a message to the children asking them to come down", said Dumbledore.

"Oh", said Abena, sounding a little impressed. "You modified the patronus to carry verbal messages. Nice."

"Thank you, Lady Abena", he said, as they left the room.


End file.
